


Adore

by beastlybolt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe- High School, Coming Out, Dean wears lots of flannel as per usual, F/F, Female Dean Winchester, Female Reader, Friends to Lovers, Gay Panic, Lesbian Sex, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 20:23:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11974344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beastlybolt/pseuds/beastlybolt
Summary: I really felt like writing lesbians and I saw an edit of Dean with makeup and it made me think of how hot he'd be if he were a cis woman ?? I'm sorry if it's trash





	Adore

You'd wander around the halls after school when your bus would be late to pick you up, just running your hands along the rail and sometimes looking at old photographs in the hallway. You'd stare at those black and white basketball championship photos until you got bored enough to grab your iPod out of your pocket and stick your earbuds in, blocking out the world. It'd be mostly empty in the building, saved from leftover staff members that would sip their coffee and grade piles and stacks of papers. You were so used to being alone after school that it bugged you the day you weren't. 

A girl. A girl was sitting in the middle of the walkway, minding her own business and acting like it doesn't fucking matter she's sitting criss-cross apple sauce in a place people are supposed to walk. She, too, had her iPod out, blasting what sounded like AC/DC or some punk shit like that. You weren't sure you hated her or liked her for the attitude she gave. She had short porcupine dirty blonde locks of hair that were buzzed at the bottom but slightly longer at the top, always in her flannel and heavy leather jacket even in this hot climate. What a try hard. 

She wasn't afraid to give teachers any lip, and always worked alone on projects despite the thirty-something students that were in that class, along with you. It became an everyday thing, both of you in the same spot playing the waiting game for the bus and sometimes her (you're guessing) father would pick him up in a fancy schmancy black classic car. You wouldn't talk to her, she wouldn't talk to you. A couple times some eye contact was made, quickly averting each of your eyes back to your devices. But that was it. The only contact you've ever made with her.

Except one day, you were walking to the restroom as she sat there in the middle of the hall, layed out and iPod shoved in her face, music blasting from the headphones. You needed to use the restroom... which was right behind flannel girl. Of course.

And of course you tripped right over her. You had to. It was an accident, you swore on your mother's grave, but by the laws of highschool movies, _that's how it all starts._

"What the hell, lady?" She yanked her earbuds out from her ears and stood up, pissed. 

"Sorry," you mutter, pissed at the name. 'Lady'? What the fuck? Were you some librarian? No. "Not my fault you sit in the middle of the walkway." 

"Sure, sweetheart, it's _my_ fault you tripped and dropped all your shit on me." she started picking up your things and neatly lining them all up in one pile, still uttering curses and complaints but still insisted to help you clean up with attitude.

"Here, lady," she shoves the pile in your arms as you stare at her questioningly, taking them from her in thanks. Why did she have such a mouth on her but refuse to let you pick them up yourself? So hot and cold with this mysterious, weirdly moody girl. 

You clear your throat, taken aback. "Why do you keep calling me that?" forget going to the restroom, forget waiting for the bus. 

She eyes you up and down, and you feel self conscious for a moment before scratching your nose just to make your hand that isn't holding your bag busy.

"You're one of the teachers or TA's, right?" She asks.

"I'm - huh? No, no I'm a student. Junior. Where would you get an idea like that?"

" _Oh._ Shit, you dress and talk like _that_ at seventeen? Jesus." She laughs like something is funny, then quickly shuts her mouth when she sees your poker face.

"What's wrong with the way I dress?"

"Nothing, sweetheart. You're just - mature. Mature yeah, that's a good word. Thought you were in your 20s. My bad," she forms her lips into a thin line and hangs her head like she feels slightly humiliated at making assumptions. "I'm sorry. Uh, I'm Dean. Dean Winchester."

"Hi Deanna-"

"Just Dean." you can tell she must get that mistaken a lot from her cringe-reaction, and you give her an apology. "'S fine. Just, it's girly and I hate it. You're Y/N though, right?"

"Yeah. How do you know my name?" Should you be flattered, or creeped out, you're not sure. Your nervously fast beating heart says to be flattered apparently, from the up-close view of her beauty.  
Freckles, freckles nearly _everywhere_ dance across her skin, the tiny orange speckles littering her cheekbones and even trailing down. Green wide eyes that maintain confidence in eye contact. Lips that you'd kiss and kiss until your mouth got sore, and a smile that's bright with teeth that are in good shape. Dean's hair and style just make her that much hotter. 

Dean then shrugs, snapping you out of your gaze. "Just do. Seen you around a lot," she bites her lower lip and eyes you again and fuck, you're losing your shit over this girl. 

"Sorry for being a dick earlier. I really hope you're okay and I got all your stuff."

Stutter. "It's - It's quite all right, I'd be pissed too if-"

"Would you be pissed if I asked you to hang out with me more often?" Dean interrupts, shifting gears completely to... is she flirting with you? God, you can't even tell. This could be friendly. Women are too damn friendly it's hard to tell when they're really making a move. Not that you've ever been this attracted to a woman before, it is of no concern. It never has been. Not until today, this second, this very moment just seeing her chew on her pink lip and running a hand through her short hair.

Dean reverts to shyness, very suddenly breaking eye contact and making herself appear smaller, closing in on herself. 

"S-sorry, I didn't mean to ask, it's okay I can just leave you, ah -"

"No! No please, I'd like to hang out with you. I think it'd be really fu-un." your voice squeaks, making you shrink just as much as she did. She nods her approval, picking at the buttons of her blue and black flannel before she nods again.

"Cool. I'll see you in English, Y/N. Maybe after school again, yunno, tomorrow."

The rest of that day you were shaking, vibrating with excitement. 

 

Dean became a good friend of yours for six months of the school year.

The seventh month, she became a good sort-of girlfriend.

"I like girls."

You looked up from your book with squinted eyes, taking in what she had said. Before you think that maybe you had heard it all wrong and ask to repeat it again once more. She invited you over to her little apartment complex that accomplanied her little thirteen going on fourteen brother and single father, whom you've met. It wasn't the first time you've been over, in fact, it could've been the millionth.

"I'm a lesbian. I've never felt attracted to men, like, ever. Only women. I hope that doesn't - doesn't make you like uncomfortable or something." Dean tries making herself look confident, look sure of herself on the outsideby puffing her chest out and clenching her jaw, but on the inside? Shaking in her damn boots. She'd wanted to come out to you for so long, so scared that you'd only talk about boys to her or hate her for church reasons or bullshit like that. Coming to terms with her sexuality with her father and younger brother was already terrifying enough, making a friend and having to do it all over again felt like holding her breath underwater for hours. 

This is the first home in so long that they've actually stayed and actually met people they like and could talk to without being nauseated. Sam met a girl, Jess, and he's hooked already. As well as Ruby and Jo, who annoy Dean but in a little sister way. Ladies Man, Dean calls him. She never thought she'd make a real friend that would come over and help make dinner for her family, or help her in classes that seem too damn hard for their own good, or just simply be fucking there when Dean was at her worst. Her dad decided not to give a fuck she had her hand up another girl's skirt at the age of twelve, or that she always dressed typically masculine and refused to grow her hair out. Dad thought it mustn't be a phase because she's been this way her whole life. 

While Sammy just asked Dean to not steal his future girlfriends. She laughed, gave him a noogie and told him she can't control what the girl wants. 

She met Y/N. Y/N changed her, changed the way she thought of most girls at his school. She didn't shake her ass for other guys, minded her own business, kept to herself. Sure, Dean loves girls that shake their asses; they're hot, and she could get off on porn all about it. But something about Y/N's quiet, humble aura made her want to find out just how mysterious she is. She didn't want to fall in love with her, or blush during sleepovers, or have her dad and brother make fun of her about how much of a fool she's been. 

"So 's she gay too, or what?"

"Are you her dirty little secret? I won't have my daughter be a science experiment -"

"Dad! Sam! Knock it off, would ya?"

So she just broke the ice one night.

"I like girls."

"Huh?"

"I'm a lesbian. I've never felt attracted to men, like, ever. Only women. I hope that doesn't - doesn't make you like uncomfortable or something."

Y/N's hand is on Dean's in an instant, rubbing and making her tingly all over. Fucking dammit. 

"Dean, it's okay. Plus, I kinda already had my guesses but didn't wanna stereotype or anything."

That makes Dean raise a brow. 

"You did?"

"Short hair, flannel, short nails, didn't give a shit about any boys at school. Sort of a no-brainer, Deanie." That makes her chuckle. 

"Hey, Y/N?"

You look back at her.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. Not a lot of old friends really took that well."

You laugh. "How? Did the guys not want you to steal their girlfriends?" 

"No, the girls I was friends with just called me a dyke and thought me telling them my taste in girls meant I wanted to finger them or something." 

That made Y/N's eyes soften, in an empathetic non-pitying way that made the other girl's heart swell. 

"I don't see you any different, Dean. We're still friends. We always will be, okay?"

 

The night Dean kissed you for the first time was a week after she came out. 

She couldn't take it anymore. 

You were on her bed, in her fucking flannel for gods sake, her favorite flannel that you just stole from one of her drawers because she's made you comfortable and at-home enough in her room to where you could do just about anything you want without being prompted. 

She stopped talking, stopped looking in your eye and instead on your lips, focusing on the way you licked and bit them. It was so sexy she swears she felt herself getting wet. Her heartbeat was pounding, a steady throb between her legs as well. She subtly rubbed her thighs together to put some sort of friction on her clit. You just paid her no mind, talking about your day, chewing on a pencil while twirling a strand of hair in your finger. Looking sexy as all hell. Fuck, she's so gone. And gay. Super fucking gay.

Dean rose from the swivel chair and crossed her room two or three steps, meeting you at your bed. You asked her what was wrong since she looked so serious all the sudden. 

And kisses you. Kisses you right on your mouth. 

"Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"We- we can't-"

"My dad won't hear. Sam won't hear," she whispers, finding access to your neck and licking and sucking at the salty flesh. 

_Oh, fuck._

"Dean, _Dean!_ Stop."

That made her pull away immedietely, asking what's wrong and if you're okay with this. Shit, what was she thinking coming onto her best friend like that? She may not even like her. She may just want to be with boys. 

"I'm sorry."

Y/N licked her lips again, of course, and caught her breath for a moment before speaking.

"Why would you?"

"... Why would I _what?_ "

"Kiss me."

Dean went in for another, hungrily breaking all bounds and taking that as a command.

"No. No, Dean. Why would you kiss me?"

Dean flinched away. 

"I-I thought- You were bisexual. You're not bisexual?" Dean can't believe this. Of COURSE this happens to her again. Every girl. Every girl she falls for. Every girl she thought cared about her, loved her, would do anything for her, they're all the same, straight naive fucking teases. 

"I don't like girls. I'm straight, okay!"

"I'm sorry, you just- you've been so nice about the whole thing - _fuck._ I'm stupid. A fucking idiot. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please **please** can we start over? I never never meant for this to happen-" she's begging you, on her knees, nearly sobbing in the middle of each word. 

She can't lose Y/N. She's her only damn friend, only one that's listened, only one that has been judge-free since the day they met. Even after Dean was a total bitch to Y/N after she practically fell on her.

"I think you should take me home, please."

Dean hangs her head in shame, blinking salty burning tears away and nods, grabbing the Impala's car keys. 

The drive is silent, save for more apologies coming from Dean.

Dean sees that Y/N still keeps her flannel on as she walks down her driveway. She never took it off.

_She's so fucked._

 

You don't know why you turned your best friend, crush, down like that. God, what the hell was WRONG with you? She looked so depraved, so desperate just to kiss you. 

_"Dad won't hear. Sam won't hear."_

Hear _what?_ Was she gonna fuck you? Who denies sex with Dean Winchester? Any straight girl must still want a piece of that shamelessly. You were one of them. Even the day you met her, seeing her go from naughty to nice, feeling her gaze on you. It turned you on, you remember that much. Why would she ever want a girl like you? A _straight_ girl like you?

 

Dean curses at herself as she lowers her hand until she reaches her pants and quickly rides the zipper down, palming her aching crotch through her panties before she gets underneath those too. Her fingers find her clit and play with it, making the bud swell impossibly more. Her wetness seeps through her lips, and who gives a shit she forgot to shave last week so yeah there's some light hair, but she doesn't care. Y/N's lips hadn't left her mind all weekend, and touching herself whenever she reminded herself seemed like the only way to go. 

Dean promised to give Y/N space. So she's doing just that. Not texting, not calling. Not even checking up, cause she's that much of a coward. Touching herself to the thought of you, fingering her lips and coming on her hand every night and every following morning was all that she could do about it. Even in the middle of the damn day, while Sam was doing his homework in the dining room and Dad was out grocery shopping, Dean would shower hot and humid and grab an old hairbrush and thrust the handle inside herself until she found her G-spot, coming harder and harder each and every time thinking about what could've happened that Friday if you would've just let her go down on you. 

After the weekend, Dean receives a text on Sunday night.

_From Y/N: can we meet up?_

_Sent: of course. the usual?_

_From Y/N: yeah._

_Sent: k. I'm still so sorry_

_From Y/N: I know_

 

Dean leaves it at that, grabbing her signature flannel and carelessly throws jeans on in a hurry, ready to see her and hear her voice once again. 

You two meet up at a spot nearby a trail for hiking. It's always around dusk when you text eachother to meet there. 

Dean rehearses a speech on how wrong she was to make assumptions about you, to invade your personal space as she waits for you, pacing back and forth and stressfully running her fingers through her hair. She needed a haircut. When Y/N comes, Dean isn't expecting her to be the sorry one.

"God, I missed you," Y/N wraps her petite self around Dean's broad figure, giving her a bear hug. Dean will take what she can get, lifting her off the ground and saying she missed her too. All that she practiced saying flew out the window.

"It was wrong what I did. I violated your space. I should've asked," she mutters, hanging her head in shame just the same as the night she was talking about.

Y/N surprises her with a kiss. A big one.

"Oh god, w-what? I thought you-"

"I did a lotta thinking over the weekend," Y/N murmurs, combing the soft hairs on Dean's head. "I don't like girls. Never did. But I sure do like you," she simplifies, going in for another kiss. Fuck, you taste good. Better than Dean imagined, feeling you want her too. On Friday it was one-sided, Dean went in, Dean initiated. This time Y/N was doing it all. Dean wasn't upset by the fact.

"You're so beautiful."

Y/N smirks, biting her lip. 

"Yeah?"

"Fuck yeah." Dean goes in for a kiss, this time licking her way into your mouth and letting her hands wander down your back. Shit this feels so good. 

Y/N sleeps at Dean's that night in her bed, almost everything like their normal sleepovers except she just koalas herself all over Dean, making Dean want to just protect her and wrap her in her arms forever. 

Dean isn't sure if she wants to be her girlfriend, so she treads lightly on the labels. Y/N isn't even sure what to call herself, bisexual, lesbian. Dean doesn't pressure her. She's new to all of this, but Dean knows she isn't using her just to fool around. 

The day they both bring up doing it, Dad isn't home, out doing a dump run and Sam was studying with Ruby and Jess. Dean had invited you over in hopes for movie night, not forcing anything upon you or expecting to get laid.

Y/N traced her fingers up Dean's chest, flicking her bra strap off her shoulder.

"Y/N -"

"Dean, I want to. I want all of you."

Dean gulped, unsure of herself. She'd fingered a girl or two, kissed some also, but _never_ got close enough to do this. Never been naked in front of one save for the locker room. She kisses Dean quiet, shushing her protests of 'we don't have to' and just letting her hands roam Dean's breasts as she unclasps the band of her bra. 

Dean moans and moans, sensitive everywhere.

She starts off by eating Y/N out, loving the feel of her clenching her hole tighter around her tongue and fingers and coming twice already, her beautiful wetness streaming down Dean's face and hands. 

"Oh, God. Taste too damn perfect."

Y/N surprises her by sucking Dean's fingers that had moments before been inside of her into her mouth, making a show of her pornographic groans around the nubs of Dean's fingers. 

Both girls's hands explore one another's bodies, squeezing gently, cupping, rubbing. Their breath intermingled and it was all so hot, both the sight and the temperature of the room from their sweaty, aroused humping bodies. They rub against one another, seeking their clitoris to gain friction as their wetness seeps through their panties making them shed the last piece of clothing between them. 

Dean never thought she'd get the chance to have a girl beneath her like this, thinking she'd need to wait until she was older and found mature women who weren't just using her to see what it might be like. Oh boy, was she wrong. Y/N felt right against her, grinding, thrusting. Dean comes one last time and brings her index and middle fingers to Y/N's clit to stimulate the sensitive nerves there, letting her come again right after. God Dean had never felt so... _complete._ How cheesy was that? She never thought she'd say chick flick quotes like those. She'd be disgusted with herself if she weren't so damn happy.

"Be my girlfriend."

"That doesn't sound like a question," Y/N giggles, still whoozy from the afterglow.

"It isn't. It's a command. Be my girlfriend or I'll smite you," Dean nibbles on your ear making you laugh louder.

"Smite me? Just how will you do that?"

"I'll find a way."

"You'll find a way, oh ok, that's just rich," you kiss her again, tugging at her hair and leaving another purple splotch on her neck. 

"Oh shit that'll be hard to cover up from my pops," Dean snorts. "I love it. Love you marking me up, making me yours," she cups your breast and massages it's weight in hand. 

"I never said you were something for me to call mine," you tease.

"Don't even try, babe. You want me." she jokes, shoving her naked self off the bed to grab you both flannels from her drawer. 

"Just why would you think that?"

"I just made you come four times, I think you should fucking _marry_ me." 

"Yeah, alright," you agree. You really do.

**Author's Note:**

> I really felt like writing lesbians and I saw an edit of Dean with makeup and it made me think of how hot he'd be if he were a cis woman ?? I'm sorry if it's trash


End file.
